Dividing the lawn’s well-kept green

hair, the sensuous dandelion hides

between slim, summertime thighs,

glistening in dew-sweat-sunlight.

Crowned in halos unmistakable,

one sight—

shorts my breath—

though hidden modestly in leaves,

still the dandelion seduces my

eyes into inaction….My

wand’ring hand traces natural,

modest leg-lines

to the slight part in the lawn

surrounding thy dandelion—

peeping out from thy close-cropt leaves—

draws my breath across intertwined

thighs sliding apart to welcome

lips hesitating in natural

anxiety-anticipation….

A foot treads on the dandelion,

dispelling its sultry demands

before I have a chance to fulfill them.